he closing of a door, the striking
of a clock, would cause him to start from his place with a gasp and a
quick catch at the heart. Toward evening this little spasm of nerves
would sometimes come upon him even when there was nothing to cause it,
and now he could no longer drop off to sleep without first undergoing a
whole series of these recoils and starts, that would sometimes bring him
violently up to a sitting posture, his breath coming short and quick,
his heart galloping, startled at he knew not what.

At first he had intended to see a doctor, but he had put off carrying
his intention into effect until he had grown accustomed to the whole
matter; otherwise, he was well enough, his appetite was good, and when
he finally did get to sleep he would not wake up for a good eight hours.

One evening, however, about three months after the first crisis and just
as Vandover was becoming well accustomed to the condition of body and
mind in which it had left him, the second attack came on. It was
fearful, much worse than on the first occasion, and this time there was
no room for doubt. Vandover knew that for the moment he was actually
insane.

Ellis had been with Vandover most of that afternoon, the two had been
playing cards in Vandover's room until nearly six o'clock. All the
afternoon they had been drinking whisky while they played, and by
supper-time neither of them had any appetite. Ellis refused to go down,
declaring that if he should eat now it would make him sick. Vandover
went down alone, but once in the dining-room he found that _he_ could
not eat either. However, he knew that it was not the whisky. For two
days his appetite had been failing him. The smell of food revolted him,
and he left the supper-table, going up to his bare and lamentable room
with the feeling that he was about to undergo a long spell of sickness.
In the deserted hall, between the elevator and the door of his room, the
second crisis came upon him all at once. It was so sudden that it was as
if some enemy had leaped upon his back, springing out of the shadow,
gripping him from behind, holding him close. Once more the hysteria
shook him like a dry leaf. The little nervous starts came so fast that
they ran together, mingling to form one long thrill of terror, the
blind, unreasoning terror of something unknown; the numbness weighed
down upon his brain until consciousness dwindled to a mere point and
mercifully dulled the torture of his crisping nerv